


One Way or Another

by romanticalgirl



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 01:19:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gonna getcha, getcha, getcha, getcha</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Way or Another

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/) for a little Christmas-y present. Thanks to [](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://nolivingman.livejournal.com/)**nolivingman** for the beta!
> 
> Originally posted 12-24-07

It absolutely, 100 percent does not figure into Matthew’s plans to go to London that Ioan’s got a mouth like a fucking vacuum and more skill than any seventeen-year-old bloke should have. In fact, it’s not until after he takes his first trip north to see what RADA’s all about that he even finds out about Ioan’s particular talent in that regard, so he doesn’t feel bad at all about the fact that he’s sprawled on Ioan’s couch, trousers down around his ankles and his best friend lodged neatly between his legs.

He might feel bad about it, perhaps, if he could think at all, which he can’t because Ioan’s doing that _thing_ that he does, which involves his tongue, the inside of his cheeks and, quite possibly, some otherworldly power that Ioan bartered part of his soul for at some point when he was doing that damned tongue trick at parties when he was eight.

Instead all Matthew can feel is amazed and excited and about ten seconds away from coming, which he informs Ioan of by tightening his fist in the dark black curls and making a noise he likes to think is actually a word of some sort. Ioan understands regardless, or he can feel the tension in Matthew’s thighs as the muscles tighten painfully. He pulls off and away, replacing his mouth with his hand, which never feels quite as good, but still manages to get the job done. Not that it has a lot of work left to do – just a tight squeeze and quick stroke and Matthew’s spilling himself all over his stomach and Ioan’s impossibly long fingers.

Ioan rests his head against Matthew’s thigh and Matthew loosens his grip, letting his fingers splay out over Ioan’s hair, petting it gently. It’s insanely soft, his hair, and Matthew can feel the slight tension of the curls as he threads his fingers through it. Ioan’s eyes flicker up to his. “All right?”

“More than, mate.” Matthew doesn’t pretend he’s anything more than an incredibly horny sixteen year old, but he and Ioan have known each other long enough and well enough to have this moment just as easily as the last. Ioan likes having someone to lean on and, if he admits it, Matthew rather likes being the one Ioan chooses. He knows Ioan’s probably aching if the slight shifting of his body is any indication, but he wants the moment for just a bit longer before he urges Ioan up so he can do his fair share of whatever this is that they’ve got going.

Ioan closes his eyes and licks his lips, turning his head just a bit to nuzzle the inside of Matthew’s thigh. Ioan’s a bloody puppy, tactile as hell and always looking to be petted, and Matthew strokes his hair for a few seconds longer. He can feel Ioan’s smile against his skin and laughs, shaking his head.

“C’mere.”

Ioan crawls up, practically on Matthew’s lap as he sheds his trousers and briefs. He lies back against the arm of the couch and Matthew watches his eyes as he reaches down, feathering his fingers over the hard stretch of Ioan’s skin. Ioan’s lips part and he makes a sound that jerks at the base of Matthew’s cock, reminding him that he’s only gone off once today, and that’s below the average. He does his best to ignore his own body in favor of Ioan’s, eliciting all those gasping, breathless sounds that Ioan makes as Matthew’s hand slides along his length, learning the feel of him for a few moments before he tightens his grip and begins stroking in earnest.

Ioan lets his guard down completely in this, and Matthew can’t help but watch him. He’s seen Ioan naked enough times that the fact itself has lost its allure, but like this where he’s sprawled out beneath Matthew’s hands – eyes closed, head back, lips parted, breath hitching – is something else altogether. He’s vulnerable and defenseless and it makes Matthew want to give him the best time of his life. He’s not sure what that means other than his hand keeps moving, finding the things that make Ioan gasp or groan and doing them again and again until Ioan loses control and his hips arc away from Matthew’s lap and he comes, just as hotly and messily as Matthew had done.

Ioan lies there breathing, almost a hum reverberating in his chest. Matthew looks up at him, wondering for a moment how they got to this, even though he knows. Three nights ago, a bottle of scotch and a blazing row that ended in accusations, a bloody nose and desperate, hungry thrusting. He doesn’t even remember exactly what they fought about, though he imagines it had something to do with the unreasonable anger Matthew had felt when he saw Ioan talking to that bloke while he waited for Matthew’s interview to end and the way the other man had touched Ioan’s arm. It was an intimate gesture and it did something to Matthew’s blood pressure that he can’t quite explain even now.

“You’re doing it again.”

Ioan shivers and gets to his feet, tugging off his t-shirt and using it to clean himself off. He tugs up his trousers and such, zipping them up most of the way, though he leaves them unbuttoned as he pads to his room for a new shirt. Matthew frowns as he watches. “Doing what?”

“Thinking.”

“And thinking’s…what?” Matthew cleans himself off as well and stands, fumbling for his trousers and following Ioan down the hall. “Bad?”

“You’re thinking, and when you think, you get this horrid scowl on your face. Like you’ve just nearly got it all figured out and it’s going to drive you quite mad until you do.” Ioan grabs another shirt and tugs it on. “Expect fire to come out your ears any moment.”

“Oh, thank you very much.” Matthew flops onto Ioan’s bed. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“You were.”

“I was _not_.” Matthew matches Ioan’s glare with his own before breaking out in a smile. “All right, I was. Thinking about how this started.”

“It’s only been going on for three days and you’re worried about how it started?” Ioan sighs and sits in the chair opposite the bed, ignoring the piles of dubiously clean clothes surrounding him. “Matthew…”

“I mean, what? We’ve been friends for ages. Why now?”

“Because we’re teenagers and horny as fuck?” Ioan sighs and closes his eyes and rests his head back against the chair, prompting a teetering stack of clothes on the shelf next to him to topple onto his face. “Fuck.”

Matthew bites back a grin. “Why me?”

“You kissed me, Matthew.”

“I didn’t say why _you_ ,” Matthew reminds him. “Why’d you kiss me back?”

“You mean other than the fact that your tongue was down my throat and self-preservation kicked in?” Ioan shoves the clothes off onto the floor and rakes his hand through his hair. “I dunno, Matthew. Because you’re nice. Because you’re cute. Because I was drunk. Because I was angry. Because I wanted to. Because I wanted you. Why does it fucking matter? I did and you did and we did and we have done since.”

“Right.” Matthew gets off the bed and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Well, sorry to have been a bit of an inconvenience.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Ioan gets up and tosses whatever’s handy in Matthew’s direction, failing completely to harm him in any way with a wadded up rugby jersey. “Don’t go getting all pouty on me, you stupid wanker.”

“I’m not being pouty.”

“You’ve no fucking _right_ to be pouty. _You_ kissed _me_ , you fuck.”

“And now you’re complaining? I’m not the one who stuck your bloody mouth on my prick, am I? You did that of your own goddamn accord.”

“And now I’m sorry I fucking did.” Ioan shakes his head. “Jesus, Matthew. You can _never_ let well enough alone, can you? It was nice, wasn’t it? Touching and kissing and…God.” He throws up his arms and flops down on his bed in the space Matthew vacated. “You have to bloody think, don’t you? Have to think and figure it out. Maybe there is nothing to figure out. Maybe it’s not bloody logic, is it? Maybe it’s just bloody feeling and maybe I just bloody wanted to fucking kiss you back, you stupid…”

Matthew pushes him down and shuts him up with another kiss, just as hungry and demanding as the last, as the first. Ioan fights him at first, shoving against him and pushing until he wraps his hands around Matthew’s upper arms and opens his mouth, deepening the kiss and pulling Matthew closer.

Ioan groans and shoves at Matthew, rolling them over so that he’s on top. Matthew struggles just a bit and then relaxes, letting Ioan take over the kiss, take everything over until they stop fighting, melting into one another with slow kisses, deep and warm, accompanied by rolling hips and hands that can’t quite seem to stay still.

“Why?” Matthew whispers softly against Ioan’s mouth, unable to keep the question back. It _bothers_ him that this came out of nowhere, that it feels so good. “Why now? Why me? Why this?”

“Because,” Ioan whispers, as if it’s all the answer in the world, and it is, for now, all the answer Matthew needs.  



End file.
